


Day 16 - Sick Day

by ReneeLaRoux



Series: A Year In The Life [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Helpful Arthur, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reincarnation, Resurrection, Sick!Merlin, Sickfic, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeLaRoux/pseuds/ReneeLaRoux
Summary: “Oh!” Merlin rasped, “Arthur! You didn’t have to do all that.” He said, tired eyes wide.“I know, but I wanted to. I want to take care of you the way you’ve always taken care of me.”Merlin gets the flu, and Arthur is bound and determined to take care of him. Fluffy goodness.





	Day 16 - Sick Day

     It was the coughing that woke Arthur up from his comfortable slumber. He rolled over and blearily looked at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. 5 a.m. Far too early, in his opinion. The sun wasn’t even up yet. But the sound of coughing reminded him _why_ he was awake, and he climbed out of his warm bed to see what was going on. Merlin’s door was open, his room dark. No Merlin. He padded down the hall, following sniffles coming from the kitchen. The man was making a cup of tea, and he looked awful. Paler than usual, red yes, red nose, and generally ill-looking.

     “Did I wake you?” his voice sounded like gravel.

     “Yes, but I don’t mind,” Arthur assured him, pulling Merlin to sit on the big comfy sofa in the living room.

     “Flu’s been going around the hospital,” Merlin explained, “I thought I would avoid it this time. Guess I was wrong.” He chuckled and soon dissolved into another coughing fit.

     “Are you going to be okay?” Arthur was worried – influenza had been dangerous back in his day.

     “Oh, I’ll be fine. I am a doctor after all. Nothing some rest and medicine can’t fix.” He finished his green tea with honey and headed back to bed to try and get some more sleep. He complied with Arthur’s request to keep his bedroom door open, so Arthur could hear him if he needed help. Arthur went back to bed and was just dozing again when Merlin called out for him.

     “Yes, Merlin?” Arthur hurried down the hall. Merlin was sitting up in bed, a grimace on his face.

     “Could you do me a favor and grab my medical bag from the hall closet?” Arthur completed the task in record time. He thrust it at Merlin and sat beside him on the bed. He watched curiously as Merlin took out what he called a thermometer. He took the thing out of its case and pushed a button. It beeped and he rolled the rounded end over his forehead. Another beep.

     “38. Not too bad, if I can keep it low,” he murmured. He got up and headed to the bathroom, where he took some fever reducers and a strange orange liquid.

     “Cough syrup,” he said when he noticed Arthur giving him a strange look.

     Merlin slept on and off for a few more hours, but it was fitful. Fever dreams and his sore, scratchy throat woke him up like clockwork. Whenever he came to consciousness, Arthur seemed to be standing at the threshold of his door, vigilant and eager to give his aid.

     When he was forced awake by his coughing at 10:30 a.m., he immediately knew he was doing worse. His throat felt thick and coated in sandpaper. His head was pounding, his eyes were burning, and his nose was so stuffed up he could barely breathe through his right nostril. His body was aching and shaking. It was the chills that caused him to check his temperature again. Pushing 39.5. Damn. He needed to get into a cool bath and soon. He tried to sit up and felt his world shift. Ugh. Standing was no good, either; his limbs were weak and trembling with fever.

     “Arthur!” He cried as loud as his hoarse throat would allow him. He suspected Arthur had been sitting next to his door, because the man was present in an instant.

     “Merlin?”

     “I need your help,” Merlin said, looking up tiredly. “I need to take a cool bath, but I can’t get up myself.” Without a word, Arthur was wrapping one strong arm around Merlin’s back, helping him to his feet and across the room. He sat Merlin on the closed toilet lid while he moved to fill the giant tub from the cold tap. When he turned back to Merlin, the man was trembling, teeth chattering uncontrollably.

     “Fever…ch-chills….too high…” With shaking hands he tried to pull off his sleep-shirt, but failed. His arms felt like jelly. Arthur strode over and assisted him in undressing, ignoring the panic that settled in his heart when he touched Merlin’s burning skin. He quickly stripped off his own clothes and guided Merlin to the bath.

     “Wh-what are you doing?” Merlin gasped as he carefully placed a foot into the tub. He was so hot that the cool water burned.

     “I’m coming in with you,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “In your state, you’d slip under and drown.” He climbed in and situated himself behind Merlin, ignoring how awkward and suggestable their positioning was. He was glad he did, because Merlin sagged backward against his chest.

     “I’m glad you’re here,” Merlin said. Arthur reached for a washcloth, soaked it, and began running it over parts of his skin that weren’t submerged in water. Merlin would gasp in discomfort, then sigh as his body registered the coolness it needed. They sat there until they were wrinkled and pruney, Merlin’s breath rattling in his chest as he dozed, Arthur dipping the washcloth in and out of the water to smooth it over his friend’s forehead, neck, chest. When the water began to warm from their body heat, Arthur gently woke Merlin and helped him out of the bath. Merlin was weak but no longer shivering, and was pliant as Arthur stood dripping over the floor as he dried his patient. Under normal circumstances Merlin would have pled for his modesty and moved to cover himself, but he couldn’t find the strength to protest.

     Merlin was still naked when Arthur helped him back into bed. A thin sheet was all he was allowed to wear, which the conscious part of his brain realized was important. When he took his temperature again, it was much lower. He decided he needed to eat at least a little before taking anymore medicine. He tried to get out of bed and Arthur gently shoved him back against the pillows.

     “What do you need?” he asked.

     “Some food,” Merlin said, “I’ll be fine.”

     “Nope. I’ll make you something. What do you want to eat?” Merlin sighed.

     “Some toast and tea?” Arthur nodded and headed out of the bedroom like a solider on a mission. Merlin desperately hoped nothing burned down while he was indisposed. He really couldn’t run in this condition.

     In reality, Arthur was shaking in his boots, er, bare feet. He’d been in this time for over two weeks, and he’d yet to master using kitchen appliances. He hated to admit it, but they intimidated him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was wary. But right now Merlin needed his help, so he was going to make him tea and toast if it killed him.

     He set the electric kettle on first, filling it with the right amount of water for one cup. He flipped the switch and focused on the toaster. His nemesis. He quickly slipped two slices of the bread Merlin liked into the slots and pushed the lever down. Thankfully, Merlin never changed the settings so maybe this wouldn’t end so badly. It didn’t mean that he didn’t jump when the toaster ejected the pieces of bread. They seemed toasted. Good enough for him.

     He was finishing up making Merlin’s meager breakfast when he suddenly had an idea. Merlin had shown him moving pictures he called “television”, and in one of the programs a husband brought his ill wife breakfast in bed. He put it all on a tray along with a flower in a small vase. Arthur hurried around the kitchen and found a tray in a cupboard. There was already a large vase of roses on the kitchen table, so he grabbed one and stuck it in a tall glass with a little water. There. That looked about right.

     Merlin was using his mobile phone when Arthur returned. It sounded like he was talking to someone from work, so he waited outside the bedroom door.

     “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. But I really can’t come in tomorrow. I can’t even stand up on my own. Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it.” He said goodbye, hung up, and tossed the phone on the bedside table.

     “Breakfast?” Arthur announced, pushing the bedroom door open with his foot.

     “Oh!” Merlin rasped, “Arthur! You didn’t have to do all that.” He said, tired eyes wide.

     “I know, but I wanted to. I want to take care of you the way you’ve always taken care of me.” Arthur set the tray over Merlin’s lap and moved to sit beside him on the bed.

     “That’s very sweet of you, Arthur.” Merlin’s voice became thick, and Arthur could have sworn there was moisture collecting in the man’s eyes. Merlin took a sip of his tea and hummed in contentment.

     “Just the way I like it,” he smiled at Arthur. The blond smiled back. He made sure Merlin finished his toast and tea and fetched him the horrid-smelling medicine that helped him sleep. As Merlin dozed, Arthur curled himself up and watched the man. It had felt nice to help out and to take care of someone like this. He’d always been on the receiving end, but now that he gave it a try, he wanted to find more ways to help Merlin, to show him his appreciation. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
